I made very few 2016 resolutions. One was to take better care of myself. I’d like to make eye contact with my dentist when he asks how often I floss. I’d like for my eyebrows to not look like my entire Junior High existence. I’d like to shower more often.
Normally, I shower when the kids are asleep. But my non-stop-wanna-die nausea started on December 7. Showering after bedtime went out the window, because I was basically vomiting, wanting to vomit, or sleeping off the vomit. I’m still sick. Sick out of my mind. But I’ve been showering at least every other day. Last week, I showered three whole days in a row. It was like the clouds opened up and angels sang.
Self-care changes so much when you take on the title of Mother. Before children, I didn’t even think about showering. It was a beautiful part of my everyday life.
Last night, I actually had a dream that Liam Hemsworth came to my house to watch the kids while I showered. Then he made me chocolate chip cookies. He also tried to make out with me, but I said, “Um, no. Those lips have touched Hannah Montana.”
Anyway, my actual plan, since exactly zero Australian men are knocking down my door, is to put Adelaide and Bess down for a nap and put Graham in front of Mario.
I still only get a few minutes. Because Graham plays about 6 minutes before he has a life-or-death question. “Were you a kid once? How do rockets work? Am I always gonna like ham? When will Adelaide learn to walk? Why doesn’t God get rid of cancer? Why can’t I have flying powers? Will Bess always be short? Why can’t we have a horse? Do you have to clean your mom hole?”